


Going Home

by ButterflyGhost



Category: due South
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 19:46:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2282343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyGhost/pseuds/ButterflyGhost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Trying to write a snippet for challenge 64, but went verbose and nearly doubled the word count. </p><p>http://ds-snippets.livejournal.com/365296.html</p></blockquote>





	Going Home

 

Vito won’t stop crying. He’s teething, like that’s an excuse. Maria and Tony are snarling at each other like cats vying for the neighbourhood – if they didn’t live with a policeman folks woulda complained by now. Ma’s hands are in the air. She’s praying to the Virgin.

 

Frannie’s got the right idea. She’s got her Walkman on, as loud as it will go.

 

I don’t have a Walkman. The kids took it apart when I was at work, bits all over the carpet, and I can’t be bothered buying a new one. What’s the point? I can’t have anything nice. Someone’s always gonna wreck it.

 

So, I go for a walk round the neighbourhood, thinking, _okay, it’s three in the morning. Give it an hour, and it’ll have to calm down._ Sometimes, when it’s really bad, I just pretend I got work, and go sleep in the holding cells.

 

Anyway… I’m walking past St Luke’s, thinking maybe it’s time I broke Ma’s heart and got myself an apartment, when I see… Well, at first I think I’m hallucinating.

 

Benny. Jeans, teeshirt and leather jacket, standing guard over a heap of garbage.

 

“Benny?” I ask. He turns his head toward me and smiles. What the hell’s he doing here, all military looking at three o clock in the fucking am? I ask him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

 

“I’m protecting Mr McGoohan and his guitar.”

 

I goggle at him. Literally, goggle. I can feel my eyes going big, and my jaw dropping.

 

“The fuck? Protecting who?”

 

“Mr McGoohan,” Benny repeats, and gestures to the pile of rubbish behind him.

 

I look down, and the heap of rags turns into a homeless guy, bundled up, hugging his guitar.

 

“What you protecting him from?”

 

“Well, Mr McGoohan is… the worse for wear.” _Drunk,_ I translate. “And a malfeasant attempted to steal his source of income.” _Guitar,_ I translate. _Guy’s a street singer._

 

“We could haul him in,” I suggest, pointing at McGoohan. “Let him sleep it off somewhere safe.”

 

Benny’s face goes tight, and he shakes his head, just a fraction. “Mr McGoohan wouldn’t like that,” he says. “In fact, he was just singing…”

 

“What?” I don’t like it when Benny stops talking – usually means he’s thinking even more than usual, which can’t be good.

 

Benny lifts a shoulder, then smiles and starts to sing, like he took me literally.

 

“Bitter hearts from bitter ends, crooked limps from crooked mends –”

 

I start smiling at him. Can’t help it. You ever heard Benny sing? It’s fucking gorgeous. You can’t not smile. Then…

 

Then I hear what he’s singing.

 

“The sun stopped shining. I’m going home.”

_Oh God,_ I think. _Benny, don’t go home._

 

“When I left I had a choice, lose my mind or lose my voice –”

 

“No wonder you never shut up,” I interrupt him. He stops singing, looks hurt. I don’t know how to take it back. “Sorry,” I say, like that makes a difference.

 

The homeless guy, what’s he called, McGoohan? – well, he groans in his sleep, and hugs his guitar tighter. I look at Benny, standing in a dirty shop doorway, playing guardian angel to some guy who’ll never remember it, or even thank him.

 

So, I slide in next to Benny, lean against the wall. He looks at me, and raises his eyebrow like he’s about to ask something.

 

“It’s okay, Benny. I got time.”

 

And yeah, I do. For him. Always.

 

I stand with Benny, and together we keep guard, till the sun rises over Chicago.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to write a snippet for challenge 64, but went verbose and nearly doubled the word count. 
> 
> http://ds-snippets.livejournal.com/365296.html


End file.
